


What Albus Did on His Summer Hols

by DoubleApple



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, And They Are Unresolved, Community: hp_crossgenfest, Cross-Generation Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Draco Malfoy Has Issues, M/M, Oh yes, Shower Sex, Topping from the Bottom, With Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-15 03:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleApple/pseuds/DoubleApple
Summary: For the prompt: Albus is spending part of his summer hols at the Manor when he walks in on Draco having a shower. He can't stop thinking about his friend's dad, and a few days later, tormented by lust, he decides to do something about it.





	What Albus Did on His Summer Hols

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magpie_fngrl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magpie_fngrl/gifts).



> Magpie, thank you for this delicious prompt! PWP FTW! 
> 
> As always, many thanks to the amazing M for the beta.

"If you're going to barge into my personal lavatory and propose a fuck, is it too much of a cliché to ask you to call me ‘Draco' rather than ‘Mr. Malfoy'?"

Albus realised his mouth was hanging open like a cod's, and he had to tell himself to shut it. His whole body had thrilled to those words, drawled lazily like a casual insult. He was fairly sure his cock hadn't stopped being hard since he'd walked in on Mr. Malfoy — Draco — in the shower, accidentally-on-purpose, three days ago. And the fact that he'd just knocked on the door and returned to the scene of the crime wasn't helping him stay calm. 

"Draco, then," Albus said, swallowing hard, feigning bravery he didn't quite feel. "I'm fairly obsessed with wanting to shag you. I've been thinking about you since I was a bloody teenager." 

"Two whole years ago, then." Draco regarded him coolly. "Is that so?" 

"Yeah, that's so," Albus said, allowing just a hint of sarcasm into his tone, willing himself to be bold. "Longer than two years, though. I've been getting myself off to you nearly every night for ages."

It looked like Draco couldn't help but smile at that, the corner of his thin mouth quirking up just a fraction of an inch. "Is _that_ so?"

"Yeah, that's _so_ ," Albus repeated. This was the barmiest flirting he'd ever done. Usually he didn't have to work this hard; the stakes never felt very high. But this time, he was well and truly gagging for it. He wanted Draco so badly his heart was hammering away in his chest, his mouth dry, his cock standing at attention just because of this conversation, just from standing this close, even when they were both fully clothed. 

"I saw you in the shower," Albus continued. "A few days ago. On purpose. I knew you were in there and pretended I didn't so that I could get a look you."

"I knew that was you," Draco said, almost to himself. "You're the most pathetic liar I've ever seen. How you Sorted Slytherin is beyond me."

"I can be devious." Albus suspected he sounded entirely too eager to be convincing, but he plowed on anyway. "I can surprise you. I _will_ surprise you."

"I suppose I'd enjoy seeing you try," Draco allowed. "However, I do have one concern—"

"If it's Scorp, don't worry about it. He knows I've fancied you for ages," Albus interrupted. "He told me to finally do something about it while we're here on summer hols, while I didn't have any excuses, or else he'd hex my—"

Draco raised a hand to stop him, his lip curled in amusement or sarcasm or disdain or all three, Albus couldn't tell. "Enough. I don't need details," he said, but Albus thought he saw a slight relaxing of tension in Draco's sharp jaw. He was fairly obsessed with Draco's jaw. 

"Fine. Come back in five minutes," Draco said dismissively. 

Triumph and excitement flushed through Albus. He turned and left without a word, making sure Draco got a nice view of his arse in his loose joggers as he walked out. 

He stood directly outside the bathroom door, listening, until he heard Draco call, "I can hear you breathing out there, Albus. I said five minutes, but I'll make it ten if you keep panting in my doorway."

So Albus snuck down the dim corridor and into the bedroom he always stayed in at the Manor. He stared at the huge four-poster and impersonal posh decor, gazed at the beige bed where he'd wanked to thoughts of Mr. Malfoy at least a hundred times. Five minutes suddenly seemed entirely too long to wait. He considered rubbing one out immediately… when it came to Mr. Malfoy, he had a very short— what was that called again, reflectory period? Reflickering period? Whatever, he could be bloody hard again in seconds flat, particularly if Draco was finally going to be touching him, fucking _finally_ , Merlin. Albus bit back a groan at the thought of it and pressed his hand over his cock, willing it to wait. 

Instead of wanking, Albus cast a quick cleaning charm all over his body, aiming his wand down his pants to give his bits some extra attention. He brushed his teeth the Muggle way, extra hard, and didn't skip his tongue. He ran his hands under the water in the sink and raked them through his eternally unkempt hair, which succeeded only in making it damp and messy instead of dry and messy. 

That must have killed at least three and a half minutes, Albus thought, close enough, and he raced back down the corridor. 

Draco was standing in the doorway of the loo, ready for him. Albus stopped dead in his tracks as Draco assessed him coolly. His eyes ran up and down Albus' body, and he seemed to not much like what he saw. He pressed his thin lips together and Albus held his breath. 

"Truly, I've had enough of your lot for an entire lifetime, Potter," Draco said, and although his tone was controlled, Albus thought he sensed real anger beneath it. There was a look on Draco's face he'd never seen before. That perfect jaw was set, hard and sharp, tension brewing beneath it. He was taking this seriously now. Good. Albus wanted him to. 

"I don't think you have," he said, with more courage than he felt. "Had enough of us, I mean. Had enough of _me_."

Draco's eyes went dark, and the look on his face gave Albus pause for the first time as it occurred to him that this person really loathed him, maybe just a bit. It wasn't a thought Albus was used to, honestly. He wasn't outgoing, wasn't always off making friends with anything that moved like Jamie did. And he didn't have whatever charismatic charm it was that made everyone flock to his dad like moths to a flame. But he was used to being liked fairly effortlessly by most people, and not minding either way — which, of course, was exactly why it was effortless. 

Now, though, it seemed that Mr. Malfoy genuinely disliked him, which made him a rather excellent dad to Scorp, since Albus didn't think either of them had ever realised it. And it seemed that being disliked, possibly, _very_ possibly, was oddly hot. Albus was confused and turned on and—

Draco, his face still ice cold, interrupted his thoughts. "May I use Legilimency on you?"

"Oh," Albus said. "Um, sure, I guess. I'm an open book." He scrambled to shift away from his confused thoughts and almost immediately, he could feel Draco pressing into his mind. Albus focused on the image he'd held there for days now — Draco soaking wet and pressed up against the shower wall, head turned with his cheek on the slick black tile, mouth open in a silent moan of pleasure while Albus thrust into him from behind.

Draco's hands became fists and his knuckles went white. Albus saw him swallow hard. 

"Fine," Draco said, his voice rough. "That will do. At least for this time." 

Albus thrilled to that — there would be a next time, then? — and Draco growled, "let's see how it goes first, Potter." 

Albus laughed in surprise. He hadn't known Draco was still reading his thoughts, and he closed off the connection with a snap, the way his dad had taught him years ago. Draco jolted slightly and turned away from him to adjust the taps.

"You don't wish for me to stay in your mind, then?" Draco asked. He turned on the spray of the shower, and just the sound of the water hitting the tiles made Albus' cock swell more, remembering. "Having access to one another's thoughts during sex can be… rather interesting." 

The way he drawled the last few words made Albus want to shiver. How many men had Draco fucked? It had to be dozens. _Yes._

"Maybe next time," Albus said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. Steam was beginning to billow from the shower. 

Draco laughed once, just a low huff, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. 

"So cheeky." Satisfied with the taps, he turned back to Albus and stared him down. Fuck but he was fit, silvery pale hair and long narrow body, the softness around the waist somehow more proof of his cool charm, as if he couldn't be bothered to care. 

Draco snapped his fingers and Vanished his own clothes all in one go, and his wandless magic was bloody hot, and Albus couldn't hold back anymore. Not breaking eye contact, he reached down and palmed himself over his jeans. 

"No." Draco snapped his fingers again and held his palm out toward Albus, and his hand flew away from himself along with his clothes. All of them. Draco's magic lingered for a moment on his overheated skin, prickly and tantalising. Albus' cock stood at attention, aching to be touched, but he forced himself to stare Draco down, fully starkers. He even stared openly at Draco's cock — also hard, thank Merlin, and just about the most beautiful thing Albus had ever seen. His mouth watered, wanting it. He hadn't even known that was a thing that could happen. 

Wordlessly, imperiously, Draco gestured to the shower. Albus stepped in, the heat of the water barely registering. Draco stepped in behind him, that unidentifiable spicy scent now surrounding Albus from all sides. 

Water sluiced down from the showerhead and Draco tipped his head back into it. He slicked back his hair, then tilted his long neck from side to side as to stretch, and Albus had never wanted anything so much in his life. Caught completely on his back foot, he reached toward Draco's hip without a plan, just wanting desperately to touch him. 

Without even looking at him, Draco batted his hand away. 

"No," he said, his expression unwavering. 

Albus raised an eyebrow and stepped back. "No?" he asked, hating the way his voice quavered. 

Draco looked at him evenly and — fucking hell, Albus thought — reached around behind himself. 

"Can't I… er… help with that?" Albus' voice was swallowed up by the spray of the water, so he said louder and more forcefully, "Draco. Let me help with that. Please."

Another "no," this one more wicked by half. His eyes were locked on Albus'. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and the water was beating down on his shoulders and suddenly he was convinced he was going to come on the spot, untouched. Desperate to stop it from happening, he reached down to press a quelling hand against his cock— but before he touched himself. Draco drawled, "I knew you'd have no self-control, Potter."

That forced Albus to put his hand back on the wall to try to steady himself. It was next to Draco's, and Albus tried to reach over and cover that hand with his own. 

"No," Draco said for the millionth time, clearly enjoying this far too much. Albus felt like he might literally explode, desire buzzing in his head and the water pounding his skin. 

"Can't touch you _or_ myself, then?" he muttered under his breath. 

"No," Draco said yet again, and this time he did smile in earnest, deep lines crinkling around his eyes even while his body torqued and his fingers disappeared behind him, doing something clever and tricky that Albus desperately wanted to be doing himself. "Be still, Potter. You'll get your turn."

At last, after an absolute eternity, Draco turned his attention back to Albus. "All right. Now you may proceed." 

And Albus wanted to laugh at that supercilious tone. He wanted hold out, wanted to keep playing this delicious game, but there was simply no bloody way he could wait one moment longer. He grabbed Draco beneath the spray, water everywhere, flipped him, and pressed him to the wall. Finally, _finally_ , he was allowed to touch, and his hands roamed everywhere on Draco's body, trying to make contact with every part of him at once. Albus grabbed at his arms, his shoulders, his chest, his arse, impossibly greedy for him. 

Draco was taller than Albus and he had to stretch, rising up on his tiptoes to rub his cock against Draco's arse, wrapping his arms around Draco's chest for balance. Albus' hands found Draco's nipples and tweaked them hard; Draco yelped, more surprise than pleasure. 

"Fuck you, _Potter_ ," he ground out, tight and frustrated. Something about the way Draco said his name made Albus realise that oh, this was about his dad just as much as it was about him, maybe more — about old anger and decades of unresolved tension and _fuck_ if that didn't make it even hotter somehow. He let out a strangled moan. 

"Fuck you," Draco repeated angrily, even as he ground back against Albus. 

"No, it's the other way ‘round," Albus said, his whole body buzzing, half out of his mind. But as though they'd taken some invisible cue together, Draco bent his knees a bit just as Albus rose up again, and lined up his cock, and slammed into Draco's arse. 

Draco tried and failed to bite back a pained yelp. His solo prep had made him ready, but it was still artless and far too hard, too much, too fast. Albus felt a quick pulse of regret — he should probably be going slower, appreciating this more — but it felt more incredible than he ever could have imagined, the tight heat of Draco encircling his cock, friction and warmth and fuck, yes. Draco was arching his back to pull Albus in even deeper, and he was entirely too far gone to stop. He pounded into Draco, shoving him flush against the tile again and again, his cock trapped by the wall. Albus was flooded with sensation, every part of his body overcome. 

Finally, finally, Draco's iron control slipped a fraction of an inch. He brought one hand up to the tile next to his head, bracing himself against it, and the other back around Albus trying awkwardly to shove him in deeper. Albus knew he wouldn't last much longer. 

He covered Draco's hand with his own and got off three more brutally hard thrusts before he came, shouting and moaning with the release of it, his control gone completely, the water pounding his back and his knees threatening to give way. Pleasure crashed through him; it was all he could do to stay upright. 

Without thinking, Albus reached around for Draco's cock, no longer able to resist it pressed painfully against the tile. He was surprised that Draco allowed it, but he did. And fuck if Draco's long slender cock in his hand wasn't making him hard again, almost immediately, still inside him. 

With everything wet and slippery, Albus stroked Draco fast, with an extra twist of his wrist, an extra press at the base, just the way he liked it himself. He was rewarded with a small sound — a catch of breath and a low moan — as Draco tipped his head back and leaned it on Albus' shoulder for one long, perfect moment as he came. Albus felt the shudder go all through his body and he watched, transfixed, Draco's cock jerking in his hand as he brought him off. Unable to help himself, Albus put his mouth on Draco, finally, biting and sucking at his pale, exposed throat. 

Only after he came and the water washed all the evidence away did Draco seem to relax a tiny fraction more. His shoulders curled, and he allowed himself to keep leaning back into Albus behind him. Through his foggy haze, Draco's warm weight against him, Albus realised that this tiny softening, this gentling, was what he'd wanted, just as much as the shagging. 

Well. Maybe _almost_ as much. 

That realisation gave Albus the nerve to finally slip out of Draco with an inelegant squelch that made them both wince. Draco responded like he'd been assaulted, whipping around, arms wrapping around Albus' neck and hands tangling in his wet hair. Albus could barely keep up, just pressed his mouth back against Draco's while hoping for the best. 

Albus felt a small laugh — a laugh? — rise up from Draco's throat as he gave a small roll of his hips, and Albus realised that Draco was feeling Albus' half-hard cock against his thigh. 

But then Draco pulled away. 

"Not yet," he said, imperious as always, even in the most intimate situation Albus could think of, but with a smile in his shadowed eyes. "You're bloody insatiable. Out of my shower, Potter."

Sex-dazed and still half-hard, Albus obediently stepped out and stood dripping on the tile floor. 

"Towels and a robe for you are over there," Draco said, motioning toward the door, "and that's quite enough of you for one day." 

He smiled to himself and screwed up his courage once again. Grabbing his wand and turning to face Draco, he pointedly ignored the robe and cast a strong drying charm on himself instead. He positioned himself so Draco, pretending to busy himself with soap, could see his whole naked body, particularly his now-almost-completely-hard-again cock, as he made a show of toweling his hair dry. 

"Perhaps that's why your hair is such a god-awful mess," Draco said, his back still turned. 

Albus ignored him and willed his voice to be steady. "I'll be here till Thursday," he told Draco's back. "Even if you don't want to have another go now, we may as well put the rest of the holiday to good use." 

"We'll see." Looking in the mirror, Draco raised his eyes to meet Albus' own. His own face remained impassive, but his reflection's eyes swept over Albus' whole body and darkened with renewed interest. 

"All right, then. See you, Draco." Albus, still starkers, turned to go. 

"That's Mr. Malfoy to you." 

Albus huffed a little laugh and flipped two fingers over his shoulder, grinning all the way down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the 2018 Harry Potter Cross Gen Fest. The author will be revealed on August 31.


End file.
